


At the End of All Things

by grey2510



Series: Tumblr Prompts and Requests (SPN) [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Charlie Lives, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Everybody Lives, Kinda, M/M, Team Free Will
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2016-12-19
Packaged: 2018-09-09 16:59:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8900455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grey2510/pseuds/grey2510
Summary: So. Here they are. At the end of all things. Dean’s pretty sure he’s not the only one with Mount Doom running on the mental highlight reel, judging from the look on Charlie’s face. But no eagles are going to swoop in and save them. Not this time.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [awed_frog](https://archiveofourown.org/users/awed_frog/gifts).



> Written for a Tumblr prompt (2 of 'em actually):  
> 18\. “This is without a doubt the stupidest plan you’ve ever had. Of course I’m in.”  
> 25\. “I can’t believe you talked me into this.” -- requested by awed-frog
> 
> Oh, and Charlie is alive in this because fuck 10x21.

So. Here they are. At the end of all things.

Dean’s pretty sure he’s not the only one with Mount Doom running on the mental highlight reel, judging from the look on Charlie’s face.

But no eagles are going to swoop in and save them. Not this time.

He never thought it’d come to this, but if it had to, he’s glad he’s with the people he cares about most. Their circle is tight, elbows brushing. Sam looks stoic, his jaw set. To anyone else, Cas would seem unaffected, inhumanly still, but Dean’s studied those features often enough to see the concern in his eyes. Charlie’s lower lip wavers, and Dean can’t tell if there’s an actual tear in her eye or if it’s just the brightness of the sun. If anyone asks Dean, he’ll say, in regards to himself, that it’s definitely the sun. Not that it really matters now. What’s the point of pretending.

“What if we called—" Sam starts, but Charlie shakes her head.

“They’re not coming. We’re it. We’re all that’s left.”

Dean’s hands ball into fists. “No. This is bullshit. After all we’ve been through, all the fighting, our losses and sacrifices, this is it? Game over, man? No, nuh uh. There’s gotta be another way.”

“The spell didn’t work! That was our last shot,” Charlie mourns.

Sam uncomfortably shifts his weight, and Dean knows what he’s going to suggest, and he doesn’t like it, not one bit. “We still have the amulet.”

“Fuck that thing,” Dean mutters.

Right, the amulet. The one where there’s a 50% chance they all die, a 40% chance only some of them die—and by some, he means the wearer—and a 10% chance everyone’s as safe and happy as a box of puppies.

Cas’ face is lined with worry, and his voice is low and gravelly. “It could work, Dean. It might not kill the wearer.”

“As in you, Cas,” Dean retorts. “C’mon, we all know if someone’s gonna wear the amulet, it’s going to be you—you’re the only one with the juice to power it.”

“It’d be a sacrifice of one to save many,” Cas retorts, with the steely glint in his eye that Dean knows and fears. Cas is a self-sacrificing bastard, and Dean’s not going to let him do it. Not again.

“You’re not pulling a Spock, Cas!”

Sam puts a hand out towards Dean’s arm, not quite holding him back, but it’s enough. “Dude,” he warns, and Dean settles minutely.

“What if there’s a way to ground the power? Like, uh, like a lightning rod?” Charlie chimes in softly, but her eyes are bright, and Dean can practically see the gears in her brain whirring.

Sam perks up instantly, then ducks down into the bag at his feet, pulling out pages, shuffling through them quickly. Triumphant, he pulls one out. “How did we miss this?”

“What?” Dean asks.

“The amulet—it’s like the yin and the yang. It’s all about balance, two sides,” Sam explains, and Dean thinks he gets where his brother is going. “We’ve been thinking about only _one_ person using it, one side.”

Cas’ features loosen from their tight concentration as Sam speaks. “So if Dean and I were to—"

“Whoa, what?” Dean cuts in. Everyone just stares at him. “Fine, fine, whatever. Profound bond, I get it.”

So sue him if this thing with Cas is very new—well, officially that is—and his knee-jerk reaction is to deny deny repress repress. It’s not like he’s had a lot of practice being _out_ , never mind comfortable with the fact. Not that it really matters now.

“We just need to figure out how to bind them with the amulet..." Sam mutters to himself.

“And then,” Cas says, “Dean and I will approach them together. You and Charlie should head down that hill at that point.” He points to their right. “Diversion.”

Charlie nods resolutely. “Give you as much time as we can.”

While Sam and Charlie pore over the text, deciphering more of the obscure language, Cas and Dean step away for a second. They might not have another chance to.

“You don’t have to do this, Dean.”

“Not going to let you go alone, man,” Dean says.

“Dean—"

“Cas, this is without a doubt the stupidest plan you’ve ever had.” Dean smiles as bravely as he can. “Of course I’m in.”

He pulls Cas towards him, one hand cupping his jaw. The kiss is nearly bruising, each of them trying to pour in every final thought and word and feeling before it’s too late.

When they break away, Cas actually _smiles_ , an honest-to-god smile, and Dean thinks it doesn’t matter whether the amulet works or not: he’s dead right here and now.

Unfortunately, the smile also breaks the illusion of the whole situation, and Dean feels a grin spreading on his own face.

Cas looks down at his outfit—a dark reddish leather jerkin over a loose-sleeved cotton shirt, a belt with a wooden sword, brown pants that taper into tall black boots—and then back up at Dean. It’s certainly a change from the holy tax accountant look—holy pirate or brigand, maybe—but Cas makes it work. More than makes it work.

“I can’t believe you talked me into this,” Cas remarks, a laugh just barely hiding in the undercurrents of his voice.

“Oh c’mon, it’s fun, and you know it. Plus, I look good as a handmaiden,” Dean adds, waggling his eyebrows.

“I also can’t believe you allow Charlie to call you her handmaiden.”

“That’s the Queen of Moons to you, sir,” Dean chides, but then he shrugs. “I dunno. Moondoor’s...different. Nobody cares here. It’s all pretend, but it’s easier to be real, you know?”

Cas considers. “I think so.” He looks back to where Sam and Charlie are still studying the 'lore' of the amulet. “Should we go back?”

“Probably,” Dean admits reluctantly.

“We think we have it figured out,” Charlie announces when they return. “C’mere.”

She takes their hands—Cas’ right, Dean’s left—and has them clasp their palms together, entwining their fingers, before she binds the chain of the amulet around their wrists. The two sides of the pendant, one red and one black, twist back and forth between their arms.

“Here,” Sam says, handing a piece of paper to Cas. “Chant that when you get close. Dean, you—”

Dean draws his sword. “I hold them off.”

“Yeah, then you read the chant when Cas is done.”

“Got it.”

Suddenly, Charlie straightens up, at once regal and resolved. Sam, Cas, and Dean stand stilly, respectfully quiet.

“It has come to this,” the Queen begins. “This, this is the final moment, the one that decides the fate of Moondoor. We have fought bravely and suffered greatly. But, as Queen, I could not be prouder to have such loyal companions and followers still by my side. We _will_ win this day, for ourselves and for our countrymen and women. We few, we happy few, we stand together, and those who have left and run shall think themselves accursed they were not here, because they couldn’t nut up and fight for the glory of Moondoor!”

“Not quite the Bard,” Dean mutters. Charlie glares, Sam shoots him a surprised look, Cas seems merely amused. “What? I read.”

“Ahem,” Charlie resumes. “Will you fight, for your Queen? For your country?”

“MOONDOOR!” Sam, Dean, and Cas roar. Dean and Cas raise their enjoined hands up in the air between them.

So. Here they are. At the beginning of all things.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this fast, so apologies for any editing errors. I'll probably find a bunch tomorrow.
> 
> Also, apologies for any LARPing inaccuracies. I know very little about LARPing.
> 
> Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos appreciated!
> 
> Check out my other works (sorted by series for easier navigation):  
> [Grey's works](http://archiveofourown.org/users/grey2510/series)  
> Come visit me on Tumblr! @[grey2510](https://grey2510.tumblr.com/)


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